


Caught

by missfortunesirprize



Series: Opposite [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-20 21:39:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3666168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missfortunesirprize/pseuds/missfortunesirprize
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The table was beginning to make her legs numb, while he tinkered around with her left arm and kicked her legs out, toes just brushing the fabric of his shirt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caught

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing recognisable.

The table was beginning to make her legs numb, while he tinkered around with her left arm and kicked her legs out, toes just brushing the fabric of his shirt. The sound of clinking was filling the room, and she tuned it out, getting lost in the music inside her own head. Something keeps pulling, she can feel the metal arm moving, but she knows that if she looks down at it, she'll be reminded of her time with HYDRA and all the times they took her apart and rebuilt her again. It's a less cluttered space than she expected, but there is various half finished projects littering the many tables in the workshop, wires spilling out everywhere. "Can you feel that?" His voice was quiet, distracted as he focused on the intricate workings of her artificial limb. "No, just phantom pains," she says, risking a glance down and breathing hard out her nose. "Some days, it feels like it's still there, but I've had a long time to adjust to the fact that it's not, not really." 

He nodded, distractedly, humming under his breath as he leant in closer, slowly fitting metal plates back together, piece by piece. "Fully working again?" He wiped his hands on his already dirty jeans, not even bothering to look for a cloth. "I think I fixed the sticking problem." He looks confident about it, so she just nods and slides off the table, following him over to another, watched as his hands moved, clicking buttons and swiping things on three monitors set around him at eyelevel, and she saw glimpses of huge numbers, flashes of red and gold, and eventually the sound of her favorite song filtered into the room, soft and unobtrusive. "How is it working?" His voice came so suddenly that she jumped, and then flexed her arm, watching as the metal plates moved and shifted with the movement, "It's looking great." He stopped, standing on the other side of the table, looking at her with a strange expression. "What?"

He shook his head, turning back to his monitors. "Since you were there, purely hypothetical question, how did relationships work back then, I mean was it all gentlemanly gestures?" Her laugh came out startled and loud, "I wouldn't know, I wasn't much of a fan of the gentlemanly type." He didn't answer, just nodding in vague understanding. She watched him while he worked, the air around them illuminated by the unfiltered glow of the reactor keeping him alive. She didn't think before reaching up and tracing her fingers around it, where the metal fused with skin. "And I thought I was the only one with technology so ingrained in me." She raised her eyes, seeing him looking back at her with dark eyes. She flicked her eyes down to his lips, biting her own and curled a hand around his shoulder, pulling him in until they were standing face to face, frozen. They moved in one violent movement, pressing her back into the table and knocking over the metal stool that stood by the desk. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, hissing at the hint of teeth biting into her lower lip and flipped them, so quick Tony didn't really register it until it had happened. She moved back, looking at him and panting slightly, licking the blood from the inside of her lip, but didn't let go of his shoulders "This is a bad idea." He nodded, locking his eyes with hers, "The worst." His voice sounded just the slightest bit breathless and she shook her head, dragging him forward again and the taste of blood invaded her mouth again at the force of their mouths connecting, scratching red lines from his shoulders down towards his elbows. Her hand slipped under his shirt, tracing her fingers around the top of his jeans and then the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the garage and they sprang apart, smoothing their clothes down and trying not to look like they'd been doing what they were doing, knocking tools to the ground in the process, making clanging sounds as they hit the floor. 

Steve narrowed his eyes suspiciously as he opened the door, looking around at them, "Am I interrupting something?"


End file.
